I'll Look After You
by BritNP
Summary: Eight-year-old Rory lives a quaint, normal life, until a strange man in a strange blue box crashes into his back yard.
1. The Strange Man in the Strange Blue Box

Rory was not always such an ambitious child. When he was younger - say five or six - he was perfectly comfortable not leave the confines of his own backyard. Getting lost in the streets, however unlikely, was a troubling possibility to him, and he preferred to explore the contents of his own space, hoping to find every little crook and nanny. Though it was always changing in one way or another, it never changed so much that it wasn't his backyard any longer, and he felt safety in that. Minute changes were much more comforting than the massive life changes that he seemed to have thrown at him.

At eight, his father was undoubtedly worrying about his lack of adventure. It was quite frustrating to him, as he was always trying to shoo him out into the street or to the local park, where he had been to sometimes when he was younger. He shied away from that place, assaulted by fuzzy memories of a once happy and whole family. He knew, without having spent time there, that the swings where his father had pushed him had been replaced with new, brightly colored ones. The merry-go-round that he had loved to spin about with his mother on had been tossed out in favor of a jungle gym that he was not overly impressed with.

It had changed too much.

So he ignored his father the best he could, and he opted to play around in his own backyard, which had not seen much change since he as a child. Change was an evil, terrible thing that tore apart the things he loved most about the world and made him an unhappy child. He would not be subjected to it.

One night, however, the precious sanctuary of his backyard was marred by the biggest change he would ever experience in his young life. Nothing would compare for years to come, either, though he didn't realize it when he stumbled from his bed, sleepily rubbing his eyes. The loud crash that had caused him stir had apparently not woken his father, he realized, as he opened her door to find her snoring peacefully. The man could sleep through an alien invasion, he was willing to bet.

He searched the house high and low to find the source of the noise that had woken him, but finding nothing, he decided to return to his bed. As he passed by the backdoor of his little home, he noticed a faint glowing coming in through the window. Fear jolted through him as he realized that it was coming from the backyard. He quietly opened the back door and slipped out of the house, swiftly making his way to the foreign object that had somehow invaded his safe place.

He stopped not ten feet away, anger contorting his face as he tightly clenched his fists. This was his home, his sanctuary, and he would not stand for this betrayal. These things simply did not happen here and he would not allow it.

A face popped up over the blue box, the light from below (was that coming from inside?) making his face look strange and alien. Confused, Rory took a step back, not sure how to react. The face smiled, a big goofy smile that calmed Rory in a way that he did not understand. He needed to be angry; he needed to shout! He needed to tell the strange man to be gone and take his strange blue box with him!

He backed up even more, keeping his distance as the strange man climbed out. His clothes were disheveled and he looked… wet. He was soaked to the bone. What on earth? Was there water in that blue box?

"Could I have an apple? All I can think about. Apples. I love apples. Maybe I'm having a craving? That's new. Never had cravings before." He didn't pause as he looked back into the blue box and said, "Whoa, look at that!"

"This is my yard!" Rory huffed, crossing his arms across his chest.

"Is it, now?" The strange man asked, eyes widening. Rory realized that the man was seriously lacking in the eyebrow department, and thought to point it out but changed his mind. "Well, then perhaps you could find me something to eat. I'm starved!"

"Why are you all wet?" Rory asked, ignoring the man's requests. Why would he bring food for a stranger?

"I fell into the pool."

"What pool?"

"In the library."

"A pool in the library?" Rory asked, skeptical.

"Yes. And I fell into it." The strange man said, smiling. Rory wondered if the man maybe had a nut loose in that skull of his. "When I crashed."

"Right. Who are you?" Rory asked, tilting his head to one side as he inspected the man. Very strange looking man, indeed.

"I don't know yet. I'm still cooking."

"…okay. Can you go cook elsewhere, then?" Rory grumbled, turning away from the man. He couldn't tolerate all of this nonsense, or the fact that the man was encroaching on his own space. He didn't like it a bit.

"Wait for me!" The man called, only making Rory even angrier. He smiled as he imagined himself slamming the door in the man's face. How satisfying that would be. Yet, when they finally reached the door and he went inside, whirling around to slam the door shut, the man was smiling kindly down at him, and he found that he couldn't bring himself to do it. He couldn't be so unkind. With a sigh, he let him in and tossed the man an apple. The man bit into it, and then proceeded to spit it out immediately.

"That's disgusting. What is that?" The man said incredulously.

Perplexed, Rory answered, "That's an apple."

"Apple's rubbish. I hate apples."

"But you just said-" Rory shouted, only to be cut off by the strange man, who was poking about in the drawers of his kitchen.

"No, no, no. I like yogurt. Yogurt's my favourite. Give me yogurt."

Rory could do nothing but oblige, and so he retrieved yogurt, giving it to the man. The man poured some into his mouth, before spitting it into the sink. "I hate yogurt. It's just stuff with bits in."

"But you just said-"

"New mouth. New rules. It's like eating after cleaning your teeth. Everything tastes wrong. Argh!" The man said, grimacing.

"What's wrong with you?" Rory asked, growing angry. He didn't like this business one bit. He felt like the man kept lying to him, and if there was one thing he liked less than change, it was adults who did not tell him the truth. Which was pretty much every adult ever, he had quickly learned.

"Me?" The man asked, challenging Rory. "You're the one who keeps giving me awful stuff to eat!"

"I'm only giving you what you ask for!" Rory shouted at the man, giving him a good kick to the shin. Probably not decent behaviour for an eight year old boy, but Rory was so frustrated that it was the only thing he could think to do. The man clutched at his leg, dancing on one foot as he stared down at Rory.

Despite the heated words, the two kept at it, exhausting nearly every possibility they could in Rory's mum's kitchen. Finally, he settled on some Jammy Dodgers, which only irritated Rory, seeing as he went through all that trouble only to find that the stupid man liked biscuits, of all things. It could have been easily averted if the man had just said so in the first place.

"What's your name?" The man asked, as he munched on a biscuit.

"Rory." Rory told him, grudgingly. On one hand, he'd rather the man just leave and for things to go back to normal. On the other, despite the way the man frustrated him, he actually kind of liked having him around. Not that he was going to admit that to the man.

"Lovely name. Where are we, Rory?" The man asked, as if it were a normal question.

"England." Rory said, confused.

"And what about your mum and dad?" The man asked, pushing the plate of biscuits away from him now.

"My dad is asleep. Not a lot wakes him," Rory admitted, and immediately regretted it. What would the man do with that information, he wondered? He looked down at his hands as the words spilled out of his mouth, "And my mum's… she's dead."

"Blimey, sorry to hear that." The man said, not unkindly.

They both looked up as a strange bell began to sound, and the man immediately started shouting no, pushing his chair back and jumping up from the table. Startled, Rory jumped up, too, following the man out of the back door and into the yard, back towards the strange blue box.

"What? What is it?" Rory asked, fear edging in his voice.

"I've got to get back in there. The engines are phasing. It's going to burn!" The man said, hurrying over to the box.

"What engines?" Rory asked, not sure what to think.

"The TARDIS engines!" The man said, exasperated, as though this was something Rory should have known.

"But it's a box!" Rory shouted.

"It's not a box. It's a time machine." The man said, matter-of-factly.

"Is not!" Rory all but hissed. The man frowned but shook his head and climbed up on the edge of the box.

"It is, but it won't be for much longer if I don't get her stabilized. Five minutes in the future should do it!" The man said, preparing to leap off the edge and into the box.

"Wait!" Rory shouted, throwing himself forward. "Prove it!" He gasped. "Take me with you. Show me!"

"It isn't safe! Just wait five minutes! I'll be back before you've even had a chance to miss me."

"You're lying, just like everyone else." Rory mumbled, looking away from the man in the blue box.

"Do I look like everyone else?" The man asked softly. Rory shook his head. He could not say what prompted him to do so, but he knew that this man was, indeed, not like everyone else. With a sigh, he resigned.

"That's because I'm not. Trust me, I'm the Doctor." The man said, and Rory realized that this was all he was likely to get in the way of identification. The name rang inside of his head like bells, and he clung to it. If he never had anything else of this encounter, he at least had that. With a wink, the man leaped into the box, shouting, "Geronimo!"

He watched as the large blue box dematerialized, and then he knew that he had to believe the man was telling the truth. Unwilling to believe, for once, that the man - the Doctor, Rory reminded himself - was lying to him and would return, he charged into the house, running swiftly up the steps. He didn't care if he woke his father, though he doubted it would happen. He grabbed a small pack, stuffing only the essentials inside of it. He really didn't need much. Satisfied, he made his way down to the yard, closing the door behind him. He found a spot somewhat close to the place that the box had been sitting and sat down, cross-legged. He plucked at the grass, hoping that it might make the five minutes pass faster.

Five minutes turned into ten, ten turned into thirty, and thirty turned into an hour. He sat, hopeful, until the dawn lightened the dark sky into pinks and oranges and finally a soft blue. With the disappearing of the stars, so too Rory's hope dwindled until it was nothing but disappointment that caused his chest to ache. Not for the first time, an adult had lied to him, yet, this lie seemed more cruel than all of the rest combined. Defeated, he stood, brushing grass and dirt from himself before making his way into the dismal house which looked so plain after the previous night's events. He was a fool to think anything extraordinary might ever happen to him - he was Rory. Just Rory.


	2. The Doctor's Return

As the years ticked by, Rory began to grow more doubtful of that one night in his backyard, in which a very strange man who called himself "the Doctor" had promised to return. Perhaps it was all a dream. Perhaps it never happened. Time and resentment ate away at the memory itself, making it fuzzy along the edges.

Still, he knew that he could not dwell on some fantastical night, be it dream or reality. So he had carried on as normal, living out his childhood days in the comfort of his own backyard. Any signs that the box had ever occupied it were long since gone, and he watched through the eyes of a growing child as his backyard stayed the same, while he changed.

At twenty-two, he was still living with his father, while working as a nurse at the local hospital. He'd been teased by his teammates - he played football, of course - about being a male in a predominantly female profession, but he really didn't mind all that much. He enjoyed his work. He was in it to help others, not to please himself. He did hope to become a doctor someday, but until then, he was satisfied with the position that he was in.

His father, much like him, rarely ventured far from home, either. The two of them lived in relative peace. They were both quiet, reserved men who tended to keep to themselves more often than not. Sometimes they watched the telly together for a bit, or they both enjoyed working out in the garden that Rory had begun in his early teen years. They often took their meals together, unless Rory had to work late, in which case his father made a plate and left it for him.

One night, however, Rory returned home from work and found his father, tense, in the living room. He stood quickly as Rory hung up his coat. He looked confused as he crossed the room to Rory, speaking in low tones as he said, "There's a man in the kitchen here for you. I've no idea who he is, but he was insistent on seeing you. I think he's sort of off his rocker…"

Rory looked from his father to the kitchen door, and then back again. He didn't know who would be calling at such a late hour, and he didn't know why his father would be so vexed by someone visiting, but he figured that he had no choice but to find out. With a sigh, he made his way to the kitchen, pushing the door open without care, and then freezing in mid-step when he saw his visitor.

That. That was not possible.

"Jimmy Dodger?" The Doctor asked, holding out a cookie to Rory. He seemed to be inspecting him, searching for something in Rory. Rory wasn't sure what, but he didn't like to be scrutinized like such. He somewhat relaxed, however, when the Doctor smiled. That was a good sign.

"Keep your stupid biscuit." Rory said, trying to decide whether or not to sit across from the Doctor. All of this time… All of this time Rory tried to convince himself that it had all been some silly dream, and yet, here sat the very man who had visited him all those years ago. Somehow, he looked the very same, right down to the stupid, dirty blue shirt with the unbuttoned collar and mangled tie. His hair was uncombed, and still looked rather damp to Rory. He began to wonder if he wasn't imagining this. He moved closer to the table, but remained standing.

"You've grown, Rory. Your father told me that you're twenty-two now." There was an apologetic tone to the Doctor's voice, and he wondered what the hell that was about. If he was going to apologize for abandoning Rory, Rory wasn't having it.

"That's what happens when you disappear and don't come back." Rory told him curtly. The Doctor frowned and set his half-eaten biscuit down.

"I didn't intend to be gone for so long. In fact, I was only gone for five minutes."

"You were gone for fourteen years!" Rory nearly shouted.

"It was a mistake!" The Doctor said, standing and whirling around. He turned back to face Rory again and placed his hands down on the table, leaning in towards Rory. "I had every intention of coming back."

"But you didn't." Rory pointed out.

"I'm sorry."

"Saying that you're sorry is simple. Anyone can do that. It doesn't mean it's true, and it doesn't fix everything." Rory answered, looking down at the Doctor's hands, seething.

"So let me make it up to you." The Doctor said, straightening. Rory snapped his head up to look at the Doctor, who stood with a smile on his face.

"How?" Rory asked, frowning.

"Come with me. I'll take you anywhere in the universe. Any place that you can think of." The Doctor answered, bouncing on his heels. Despite his anger, Rory felt a sort of excitement at his words. The feeling puzzled him. He had never had any interest in traveling. Not out of Leadworth, not out of England, and certainly not into another time. He had everything he needed right here.

And yet, he felt the sudden urge to journey with the Doctor. To leave everything behind him and take on an adventure that would lead him to places and people of old.

"No." Rory said, folding his arms across his chest. He was not running off on an adventure with a man who had broken a promise all of those years ago. He had responsibilities, and he would not drop it all for some ridiculous trip to the unknown.

"Why not?" The Doctor asked, frowning. Clearly, he didn't hear the word "no" very often, Rory thought.

"Why would I want to travel with you? You'd probably leave me somewhere or forget me again, and besides, I have a life here and things to do and places to be. I can't very well abandon everything just to run off with you." Rory told him. He wondered for a moment, if his father was listening in, and he was sure that he probably was. What did his father make of this? He was probably just as confused as Rory had been all those years ago. And even now.

"I told you I didn't meant to!" The Doctor shouted, exasperated. Gripping the back of the chair he'd been sitting in, the Doctor continued, "One trip. One. Then you can go back to your dull life, and I'll leave you alone."

Rory considered this. He didn't understand why the Doctor was so desperate to have Rory go with him, and he didn't know why he felt so eager to drop everything and go, either. He didn't want to go, yet he felt that he needed to. Glancing back towards the door to the living room, he wondered if he could leave his father behind like that.

"One short trip?" Rory asked, looking back at the Doctor.

"Short. Yes. We'll be back before you've even had a chance to miss it." The Doctor told him, looking pleased.

Rory snorted. "Heard that one before."

"Well, I mean it. No accidents this time." The Doctor told him, and Rory gave a resigned sigh. The Doctor clapped his hands together, grinning, and said, "Wonderful. I'll go prepare the TARDIS."

Rory didn't bother questioning the man; there would be time for that later, he assured himself. For now, he had to deal with his father, and he had no idea what he might tell him. With a sigh, he pushed back from the table and stalked out of the kitchen. He found his father kicked back on the couch, feet on the table as he watched a football game on television. So perhaps he hadn't been listening. Rory wondered what his father would say if he said he was going on a trip with the man in the kitchen. Only one way to find out.

"Dad," Rory said, sitting down in an armchair nearby. His father looked at him, eyebrow raised. "It's a friend of mine from out of town."

"I didn't know you had friends outside of Leadworth." Brian said, warily. He was certainly his father's son, wasn't he?

"Yeah. He was visiting his cousin here years ago, when I was a kid. We've sort of kept in touch all this time, but he failed to tell me that he'd be dropping in tonight. He's kind of… spontaneous, I suppose." Rory said, rubbing his hands over his face.

"So what's the deal?" His father asked, and Rory hid a smile.

"He wants me to go see some thing with him in some other city or something. Wouldn't shut up about it, so I'm just going to go so he'll leave me alone." Rory muttered. He wasn't lying. He just simply omitted certain unnecessary facts.

"You're going away?" His father asked, surprise flitting across his face.

"Unless you need me here?" Rory asked, uncertainly. Surely, if his father was opposed, he'd be able to stay, yes?

"No, no. Go. I'm just… surprised." His father said, as though his expression hadn't made that obvious enough.

"Yeah, well, don't get used to it." Rory muttered, standing. He was rather disappointed that he wasn't able to use his father as an excuse, but a little part of him was also relieved. It was nice to know that his father could get on without him around.

"Are you leaving tonight?" His father asked.

"Ah, yeah. Shortly. I just have to.. pack a bag." Rory said, thinking of the bag he had packed in preparation at eight years old.

Doubt seeped into his mind, poisoning his thoughts as he realized that the Doctor had run off to - had he come in his blue box? Rory wasn't sure. Wordlessly, he wandered up to his room and began to pack a small bag. He smiled, thinking of the contents he'd packed when he was eight. Such different priorities back then. With a sigh, he gazed around his bedroom, wondering if he would see it again soon. He had gotten the impression that the Doctor was rather unpredictable.

The Doctor was waiting, by his blue box of course, when Rory exited through the front door and walked around the back, letting himself in through the gate. He'd rather not disappear out the back door and confuse his father even further. The blue box was standing upright this time, which made Rory feel a little better about all of this.

"Ah, Rory!" The Doctor said, his eyes lighting up as he spotted the male nurse. Rory couldn't help but feel a little excited himself. He was about to disappear; he was going to go somewhere he'd never been. It wouldn't be such an exciting thing if he weren't with the Doctor, he was sure. "Are you ready?"

With a nod from Rory, the Doctor pushed open the door to the blue box, and he ushered Rory inside. Rory tried not to let his expression falter as he stared around the seemingly huge room inside of the seemingly small box.

"It's a lot to take in, isn't it?" The Doctor asked, moving around him and going forward, up the stairs to a console in the middle of the room. "Tiny box, huge room inside. What's that about? Let me explain."

"It's another dimension." Rory said, taking advantage of the Doctor's pause.

"It's basically another dimension - What?" The Doctor asked, taking a step back towards him.

"I've been reading up on all the scientific theories since I was a kid… FTL travel, parallel universes…"

"I like the bit when someone says it's bigger on the inside. I always look forward to that." The Doctor said, reaching the bottom of the stairs once again.

"Sorry to burst your bubble, but you lost your chance at wowing me a long time ago. You think I wasn't going to try to find some sort of explanation?" Rory asked, moving past the Doctor. Despite his words, he was rather in awe of the vessel.

"Let's get to it, then." The Doctor followed, scowling. "Where would you like to go?"

"You said anywhere in time, right?" Rory asked.

"Or space." The Doctor added, and Rory stood dumbfounded.

"What do you mean, space?"

"I can travel through both space and time. TARDIS - Time and Relative Dimension in Space. I can go anywhere." The Doctor explained matter-of-factly.

"So you can go to, say… Mars?" Rory asked, curious.

"Where's your imagination, Rory? We could go to Mars, but that would be dull, and I'd rather not take you there, anyway." The Doctor scolded.

Rory rolled his eyes. "Then where would you take me, o wise Doctor?"

The Doctor looked thoughtful for a moment, considering Rory's question. He answered within a moment, giving Rory a toothy grin as he said, "I know just the place."


End file.
